


Cursed Culmination

by suhdude



Category: GHOST - Fandom, Ghost (Sweden Band), Ghost B.C.
Genre: Choose your fate, Mild Blood, Other, Sex, Smut, Vampirism, and now apparently papa ambiguity, gender ambiguity is kinda my thing, i may or may not have a raging boner for monsters that we will all have to suffer through, listen, the fate to fuck in this is kinda set in stone lmao, which is it?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 01:55:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15831384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suhdude/pseuds/suhdude
Summary: Damnation? You want damnation?





	Cursed Culmination

You readied for bed as any other night, sadness still pulled at you from loss, yet, you trudged on with the hum drum routine. 

First, you undressed, careful to keep your garments free of dirt and debris, placing them carefully down. 

Next, you washed with the large wash basin, cleansing your skin of the day and preparing it for rest. Your reflection shone in the full-length mirror, so, you stopped to admire your movement as the washcloth drug its path. 

Then, you anointed your skin with lotions, a gift from your late lover. The scent of roses drifted to you as you rubbed the elixir onto your skin, it left a shine and a soft touch. 

Memories stirred.

Pulling open the wardrobe, you were met with a slew of articles. Lazily, you pulled a plain nightshirt from the rack. 

You were told routine was soothing. You were told to mourn. You were told plenty, and yet, it all seemed to fall on deaf ears. 

Desolate was all you had been.

You did not cry.

You did not smile.

You felt broken.

Empty. 

Surrounded by company held but more loneliness, the crowd distant in waking hours. Dreariness loomed with you. Tiredness weighed on you. You didn’t bother to extinguish the candles that glowed in the candelabrums surrounding you. 

The cushion of the mattress greeted you, slipping under the heavy quilt held some sensation at least.

You drifted from sleep as slowly as you had drifted to it. 

Something rattled the window. A pause. The latch lifted itself. Fright and curiosity seemed to be the first things you truly felt in ages as you watched the window drift open.  
Through it came a dark fog, slithering, seeming to absorb the light that threatened to touch it. 

Solidity began to form, a voice pestered your mind, the smell of mildew then sulfur accompanying it. 

It was him.

You couldn’t believe your eyes, nor ears, nor any sense of human nature. He loomed above you the way a vulture circles a rotting carcass, the look in his haunting eyes twice as hungry. 

“It can’t be” you whimpered

“And yet it is.”

“You can’t be here!” you continued, louder

“And yet I am.”

“I can’t be hearing you!” 

“And yet you do.” His voice was as cold as his unbeating heart, it seemed to more around you, yet, his figure remained still. 

Your head swam as the smell of him filled you, as intoxicating as the first time he walked into your room.

“It must be my mind, I can smell you!”

“And you do.”

“I can’t, I can’t be seeing you, my eyes deceive me.”

“They do not,” his voice was accompanied by the flames of the candles flaring, ghoulish shadows dancing across the room and his shining skin glowing. You watched, heart thrumming, as the monster sat on the bed, beside you. His pale blue eye was frightfully illuminated, its brother dark as the night itself. You trembled, every last inch of you trembled. His hand was clammy as it met the side of your face, moving a strand of hair.

“I-I cannot be feeling you, you, I can’t...”

“Yet, you do. Do you not?” his voice oozed from him the way syrup gushes from the maples in the heat of spring. You felt a chill from his hand, yet, you still felt a heat, carnal. The mattress shifted beneath you as you sat further up. Though your heart pounded at your ribs, his chest was motionless in the candlelight. He was but inches from your face, face sunken slightly in the cheeks, eyes hollower, and yet, they shone as inhuman as his stare felt. 

“I cannot taste you upon my lips,” you said, “for that would make you real.”

“Do you not desire me to be real? To be within grasp.”

“If you were real, to be back, it would be an unholy act to touch you.”

“Dare you, dare you find out if I am real?”

“I must, forgive me, I must know,” 

You let your eyes drift shut, head tilting to him, lips offering themselves to his mercy. 

Softly did his lips meet yours, cold, practiced in their movements. Familiar and yet alien against yours. You could taste his mouth, unchanged. 

Fear pulled at you as a bow does a cello string. Tugging with every slight moment. The vibrations deep, shaking your core, sound reverberating in your ears. Your mouth faltered as you pulled gently back, eyes plastered upon him, open more fully than they had ever been. Your mouth followed suit. Terror held your throat too tightly for more than breath to escape. 

Papa’s eyes met yours again, foul, treacherous, beckoning. 

You stammered.

“Do you see now? See me?”

“You, you were dead! You died!”

“That is true.”

“And now, now you live?” your eyes searched him frantically, hopping for any sign he was before you tonight, alive.

“Not hardly. No breath leaves this corpse which I possess, my own corpse. I am trapped, unholy, damned to this earth, hidden from the eyes of God.”

“No, it cannot be, that would mean…no…no…” you forced your eyes shut, hands over your eyes. 

“I feel no physical pain from what once hurt me, my skin pulls itself together from cuts as water does”

“Stop,” you sobbed, the scent of earth followed his movements as he adjusted. “How inhuman, how basterdous, do you not feel? Have you no hunger, nor thirst, no emotion?”

“I feel still, more powerfully than before.” He resigned. 

You let your hands fall from your face, eyes peering at him through eyelashes. He carefully took one of your hands in his, placing it on the thin fabric of his loosely laced shirt. 

“I feel the heat of your hand, my flesh is cold as the earth they buried me in, and yet, your touch dulls that cold ache.”

“You ache?” you managed, the vision of Papa before you becoming more familiar.

“I ache horribly. And you, do you ache?” The hand that did not hold yours to his chest pressed to your own chest. Nightshirt unable to keep a secret, he felt your hastened  
heartbeat with his blue tinged fingers. 

“Every night,” you breathed, his hand again bringing a heat to you. A look of twisted satisfaction met his face, he inched closer, his leg putting pressure on yours, the clothing and quilt all but adding to the sensation. 

“You ached every night I was not by your side?” his hand trailed over the material, down, down, under where the quilt lay. His eyes searched yours.

“Yes,” came the air from your lungs, “Yes, I ached.”

“Did you wish for my hand to again grace your thighs?” he spoke, taunting as he expertly moved the fabric out of the way. 

“Yes.” Your voice was low, a fire igniting at each of his chilled touches. The hand you had resting on his chest moved to the crook of his neck, his hand stayed on it, his other hand adventured back up your thigh, higher, closer to your hip again. Countless times he had done this before, and yet, never did it feel so scandalous as this.

“Did you try to stave that ache?” his words surrounded you again, his fingers dancing closer to overheated flesh. 

“Yes,” you drew. “Yes.” Words an invitation. 

“Did they feel as good as I?” his thumb gently sliding over lubricated skin. His fingers positioned themselves at an all too ready entrance.

“No, nothing near,” A moan carrying the words “please, please, more.” A sick part of you yearned harder knowing the depravity of it all. 

“Did they feel as good as this?” he asked with a hiss, fingers effortlessly slipping into you. Breath quaking, your eyes fluttered. His fingers curled, as did your toes. 

“Not nearly,” you managed through soft noises, “This can’t be happening.”

“Do you wish it to stop?” he asked gravely, fingers threatening to leave. 

“Never,” you mewled, hips grinding down to meet his hand. A sick grin filled his face. Fear mingled with arousal at the sight of his fangs, harshly pointed. “God.”

“No God.” he replied.

“You cannot be, no, it isn’t possible,” your hips worked still as you denied his truth, the truth of the man you lusted so harshly for. 

“Did you drive a stake into my heart? Made of cedar, pine, or cypress was it?” His fingers curled, finding the spot in you that caused your back to arch. Your body shifted with the  
pressure, head resting on his pants. They smelled of the grave from which he refused. Morbid curiosity fueling your hand, it trailed from his neck down, pawing at his crotch. 

“You have risen” you said, words holding a dual meaning. 

“Like Jesus himself, I have pulled myself from my tomb. From death. Yet I am no holy man, I do not return for salvation.” The laces on the front of his pants loosened has you pulled at them, the object of your desire closer than ever. 

Carefully, he moved your head from his leg, letting it loll of the side of the bed, hands withdrawing from you. 

“You said you feel,” you spoke, looking down your nose, gravity keeping your hair back, “it must then be true that you hunger, tell me, what do you yearn for?” Your hands reached up, as though in prayer, to hold his hips. The fabric beneath your fingers remained firm. 

“I ache to have you embrace me, as you did before” he said, longingly looking down at you. Your hands guided him forward, hot breath meeting his pants. They then tugged at his waistband, revealing more than you remembered. Dreamily, you pressed a kiss to his freed length, he shuddered at the sensation. Kiss after kiss adorned him, then you began to  
explore with your tongue. Though he had no pulse it still felt as though vigor ran through his shaft, one vein more noticeable than the others. 

His hips began to grind as his hands found your hair. Fingers tangled, he placed the head between your lips. Gently, he moved in and out, your tongue moving to trace his forsaken movements. Soft moans became more frequent as he moved in. His body began to press against you, hands deserting your head to brace himself on the bed. You no  
longer felt the warmth of the quilt on your legs. It vanished as though into the air. The air seemed to lap at you, and then a tongue took over. It was hot, almost painfully so, compared to the cold lips that came with it. 

As his cock slid in your agape mouth, his infernal tongue worked you. Unbelievably yielding yet able to apply just the right pressures, its wetness paled in comparison to yours. 

It was thrilling, having him fuck your mouth as his tongue kissed at you, his nails meeting your ass much as yours met his, begging you closer, closer, closer you got. Closer until the edge of the bed was not the only edge you teetered on. The peak drew nearer and nearer as his movements became more daring, overpowering in a way. The friction of his shirt on your nightware was static as your mind. You writhed under him, nipples sensitive to his every motion. It didn’t take much more for your back to arch, hips lifting, begging  
him for any more he would give. 

Saliva bridging the two of you, he pulled away. His mouth shone before the back of his arm pulled across his face, cotton of his shirt removing the gleam before the shirt itself was removed. He crouched down beside the bed, pulling his pants off in the motion, and his lips met yours. Musk filled your mouth and nose, salty and demanding. Lust renewed itself deep within you. 

His hand met the side of your face and yours his. Warm, finally, he felt some sense of natural heat. You moved to your knees on the bed as he stood, desperate to stay with him any way you could. 

His tongue met yours, scorching as it danced with yours. Drawing in, retracting, a waltz straight to the pit of hell. A pit within you grew. 

He sat on the bed and you straddled him, grinding down on him, the evidence of your orgasm fueling the delicious friction between you. You knew it was not just your own arousal at play. You felt his hands at your ass again, now tracing up, bringing the fabric that kept you from him with them. The hairs at the small of your back, then up your spine stood on end. Goosebumps spread like ripples in water across your skin. His mouth left yours. Your arms draped over his shoulders, hips still rolling. Grinding. Wanting. 

Eyes following him, his head disappeared under the fabric. His mouth greeted you. Kisses peppered your chest, pausing as he took a nipple into his mouth. He sucked gently, tongue pressing to it, contorting to roll the sensitive peak. Your face contorted with it, pleasure pulling your features. 

His kisses hastened, becoming more desperate. Now teeth grazed your skin, longing for more. You adjusted slightly, aiding him to get the fabric the rest of the way off. In a flash it was discarded. You saw the way the kisses had begun to form bruises, the marking doing more to drive your ache for him. Hips lifting from him, his hands found the small of your back again, he pulled away to meet your eyes. Hunger shone deep from within him. 

“Do you hunger?” you asked, fear and lust ramping further.

“I do.” His voice was gruff.

“And what shall satiate you?” 

“Nothing but your submission to an eternity of damnation with me.” He replied, fierceness dripping from his being. His eyes stayed trained on yours as his lips again met your chest.

“Do you ask of me flesh or soul?” You said, arm moving so one hand again felt his face. Your thumb traversed his cheekbone smoothly. 

“Both,” the separation for the words lasted but a second. 

“And will you sate my hunger for you?” you questioned, his mouth moving up to your collar bone. “Will you quell my desires?”

“It shall be your right,” he replied “anything I can give shall be yours.” His lips stayed separated from your skin. You could feel him physically but at the hands that steadied you and under the touch of your hand, thumb continuing its trail. 

You bore your neck, looking down at his waiting face. Letting your hips sink slightly, the dripping heat of your lover pressed up to you, pausing just before entering. 

“Drink your fill” you purred.

His mouth kissed up your neck, a chill again swept through you. His jaw unhinged as he positioned himself for his unholy feast. 

He thrust his fangs forward the same moment as he stood. His cock pressed into you as he began to drink. Overwhelming was an understatement. You grew dizzied quickly, arms holding tight as your legs held him at the waist. The stretch of his cock held more and more pleasure the more he drank, the use of your body driving the spiral in your core tighter. 

Effortlessly, he bounced you on his throbbing cock before pressing your back to a wall. Blood loss leaving your vision blurry, your mouth lolled to speak, no words came. You did, sensations pulling you in every direction. 

You could hardly see as his face pulled from your neck, but, you managed to view him bite down hard onto his lip, his dark crimson blood mixing with your own on his lip. 

Lips meeting again, iron filled your nose, metal filled your mouth, power filled your being. Not once had you felt a surge of energy like this. As if a storm filled you, thunder boomed in your mind. You moaned against his mouth as the wave of pleasure that had been lost in the dizziness returned like a tsunami. Your heels dug into his ass, pulling him deeper at each thrust. 

The wallpaper at your back seemed to move under you, as though gravity had shifted. Vision clearing of darkness, you watched as the room changed. An unhinged laughter erupted from you as his mouth went back to your neck. 

The two of you were pressed against the wall, though neither touched the floor. 

Swinging hastily, you knocked the both of you to the ceiling. Hair standing on end, you somehow felt as though you were on top. A wide smirk adorning his lips, blood now dripping up the two of you, he watched as you took back control. His grip found your ass as you rode him, ups and downs confused in this state, vigor filled you. 

“Fuck,” he managed, fangs covered in a mix of marbled ruby and crimson. 

You let your own hands drag up your body, feeling yourself, reborn in blood and lust. Your own skin felt invigorated, wild, feral under your fingers.

“And you say you bring not salvation,” you moaned, his cock pressing the unwordably pleasureful spot within you. You tightened involuntarily. “What do you bring?” 

“Destruction” he breathed back, face contorting as you stroked him. Your head moved again, eyes fixing on his as the hunger within you grew. Lust roared in him as it did you, one of his eyes completely overcome by the pupil. 

“Destroy me.” You commanded. 

Falling through the air, the candle flames roared, heat licked at you but you felt no pain. Your forms crashed to the bed below, the frame shattering on impact, ornately carved wood splintering to oblivion. Your back arched as a wave of pleasure hit. 

He lifted one of your legs and pinned it beside you as his thrusts hastened. He felt impossibly deep, the pleasure skyrocketing with each of his grunts. 

Animalistic passion filled the room, never had anything been so deplorably intoxicating. His mouth met your chest, playful nibbles devolving into bites as he fully marked you, as if the punctures on your neck weren’t enough. You met each of his thrusts, desperate for him, releases not hard to find around him. You clawed at him, each tear healing itself, each growl egging you on. 

He became louder the closer he inched to his own unraveling. His mouth met yours, a sickening scent filling your nose as you inhaled his very essence. 

A huge wave built in you as his mouth pressed yours, damnation never having held such pleasure. You felt him begin to seize up, one hand reaching betwixt your rutting bodies to rub you again. Convulsing around him, you felt him find his release. 

Cumming against each other made your head spin, wicked culminations of pleasure like you had never felt filled you. You clung to him as a dying breath. Your chest heaved, though, you no longer needed the oxygen your lungs pulled in. No heart beat between you, and yet, you felt a pulse with one another. 

Deplorable, undead, you never felt so alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy, if you like the fic, I'm glad! I continuously forget to add it but i have a ko-fi! https://ko-fi.com/yeahihaveone


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